Crossed Out (12 page)

Strong vibes radiated off that cross. It beckoned me closer. I didn’t know if I was attracted to the jewelry because of my earlier rescue, or because I was seeing the rescue symbol hanging around a guy’s neck.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one enjoying the view. A few freshmen girls walked by, giggling as he smiled their way.

Mark’s smile deepened as Cura and I came up to him. “Hey, Stephanie.”

Cura nudged me hard in the ribs. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Cura this is Mark. Mark, Cura.”

“Nice to meet you.” Cura fluttered her eye lashes at Mark.

Oh, my gosh. I hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself.

The warning bell rang for first period.

“
Oh crap.
My English class is across campus.” Cura smiled at Mark. “Maybe we can meet again.”

“Sure,” Mark said.

“Well, peace out.” Cura rushed away, glancing over her shoulder and nearly sideswiping a passing guy.

“Hey, Stephanie,” Mark said after Cura disappeared in the growing crowd. Hearing him say my name sent goose bumps up my spine. “Want to ditch this place?”

Something about him screamed danger. I knew I should listen to the small voice in my head that told me I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t. I found myself inching closer to him.

“Um....” I couldn’t believe he wanted to skip school on a Monday.

“I know a great place we can go.”

“Well, can we go later? I have to pass my Spanish quiz or else....”

His hand touched my shoulder and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

“Come on. What’s one day? Scared you’ll get caught?”

“No, but....” I gazed into his large ice blue eyes. Did I mention he smelled yummy? All thoughts of my Spanish quiz went down the drain. All I knew was I wanted to be with him. I mean, what harm could one time be, anyway?

I grabbed Mark’s hand and we dashed down the hallway.

Chapter 18

Finally, freedom! As we left campus, nobody gave Mark or me a second glance. Still my heart raced in fear of being caught and led back to the principal’s office. I swear I always felt guilty under Mrs. Hathaway’s radar glare. Everyone had taken to calling her Big Bird because she was six feet tall, but being that tall certainly had its advantages.

We got to the crowded parking lot. Walking past the usual assortment of Volvos, Jettas, and hand-me-down cars, we found a motorcycle. The Harley’s black chrome glittered in the sun. I’d never been on one. Excitement coursed through my body.

“
Whoa
, nice bike. Is this yours?” Where did he get such a nice motorcycle? Cute guy and rich too.

“Yes, I happen to dig vintage Harleys. My dad has as shop where he fixes them.” Mark tossed me a helmet. “Here. Let’s leave this place.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He jumped on the Harley. “You’ll see.” He flashed me a gorgeous smile. “Get on.”

My eyes were drawn to his luscious mouth, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.

Torn between attraction and fear, I got on and wrapped my arms around him. The engine roared, the frame vibrated, and off we went. Up close, his warm woodsy scent was very inviting. The thrill of actually doing something against the rules – with a hottie – made me tingle with excitement.

Thoughts of Dylan crept into my head. I didn’t know if this was a combination of guilt for leaving or my smart-aleck comment back on campus, but I sure didn’t appreciate him invading my brain. He’d been such a jerk at the Yearbook Committee meeting, then blowing me off. I didn’t need his crap. Hillary could have him.

The bike ride didn’t last long enough. We stopped at a coffee shop. Funny, I’d never seen it before. Nestled behind Arden Hill Mall, it had a funky appearance. Faded black and white posters covered the brownstone building, advertising rock bands, and other names. I didn’t recognize any of them.

As we walked in, a small bell chimed above us. The coffee house certainly wasn’t Starbucks. Round black tables looked like checkers against the white tile floor. Brick covered the walls and blocked out the sun. A few people sat inside. The smell of roasted coffee filled the air.

Putting his hand under my elbow, Mark guided me to a booth against the wall. “What do you want?”

“Uh, do they have Mocha Frappuccinos?”

Mark leaned against the booth and laughed. “This isn’t one of those so-called coffee places that pass sugar water off as coffee.”

I cringed. “Okay, what’s good?”

A waitress came up to us. She must have been at least thirty or something. Small barrettes held back her long curly hair.

Suddenly cold, I pulled my sweater close. Something about this place wasn’t right. But what?

“We’ll both have espressos,” Mark said.

At that moment, an old The Cure tune blared through the speakers of a present, but invisible stereo.

The eerie feeling deepened. The backs of my legs itched. Usually this meant one thing – spirits close by. I glanced around. Some other people in the other booths looked like something from a bad early ’90s video: baggy corduroy jumpers, bell bottom jeans, and Rachel hair from an early episode of
Friends
.

No way!
I felt as if I’d stumbled into a rescuer’s nightmare. How could this be? The dead usually came at night. I shook my head. I glanced back over my shoulder. The booth people now looked like normal customers. Maybe I only imagined the ’90s attire.

Boy, I’ve been around Cura’s mom too much. That or I need some serious sleep.

I turned back to Mark. Dark, hot.... And those eyes! I melted back into my seat. “So, tell me something about yourself. I smiled, trying to do a Cura imitation. “Why did your parents decide to settle in this dump?”

“Who said I lived with my parents?”

He scooted forward and took my hand. A jolt of electricity shot up my spine.
Jeez, talk about sexual tension.

“I happen to like it here. The scenery is awesome.”

Double whoa.
Was he talking about me?

He dropped my hand and reached for my cross necklace. Fingering it carefully, he glanced back up at me. “You into religious stuff?”

“Um, no. Should I be?”

“Do you believe in magic, Stephanie? I do.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’d love to show you, but only—” he dropped my necklace and settled back into the booth “—if you can handle it.”

“Handle what?” I asked, ignoring the pounding of my heart.

“I know you felt the same way I did in the cafeteria the other day.”

I gulped. It couldn’t be possible. Did he sense the same strange stuff I did?

“You’re special, Stephanie.” He smiled. “I think we have similar abilities.”

First the counselor, then Dylan, now Mark. What was happening? My mouth was dry.
No way.
This couldn’t be happening to me.

“What are you talking about? Abilities?”

“Let’s just say I know we both see more than the average Joe.”

Could it be possible I was sitting across from another rescuer? “You see the dead too?”

Mark laughed. His laughter was warm and inviting like hot chocolate on a cold night. “Maybe, maybe not. Meet me tonight, at midnight. Here. And I’ll show you.”

“Um, I don’t know....”

He took my hand. With one finger he traced the back of my hand. Goosebumps crept up my back.

“What’s wrong? Can’t get out alone?” His gaze seemed to intensify, the coolness drilling into my body.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

A warning buzzed inside my head
. Don’t trust him. You don’t know what you’re messing with
.

Usually I trusted my inner thoughts, but right now they irritated me. I was curious about Mark. What kind of abilities did he have? Could he possibly be someone I could confide in? And let’s not forget an important point. He was hot
and
he was interested in me.

I pushed caution aside. “Sure, why not?”

“Great. You won’t be disappointed.”

I took another sip of my bitter espresso, which really didn’t taste that bad. Mark leaned over close, his thumb lightly caressing my hand. Just one look into his blue eyes, made me forget all my earlier problems. I wanted to stay with him.

The vinyl seats felt strangely comfortable. The music droned on in the background, along with the voice of other people in the coffee house. Nothing existed except this moment with me sitting across from the hottest guy in Sacramento – who happened to like me and even better – didn’t question me like some drill sergeant about what I did at night.

No. I wanted to stay here forever.

“So tell me about your classes,” I asked. I pushed my small cup aside.

Mark picked up my hand, rubbing it. Each stroke sent tingles up my arms. Sensations down below, made me close my legs.

I thought stuff like this only happened in those cheap romance novels. Not with someone like me.

My heart pounded so hard, I thought it’d burst.

“Nothing to tell. Boring as usual.” He smiled. “Tell me more about you.”

I couldn’t take my gaze off him. His icy blue eyes pulled me in with promises of what could be between us.

“Uh, not much.” I gulped. My mouth felt dry even though I’d just sipped my coffee. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” he said. His eyes seemed to glow. I felt myself being pulled closer and closer. Nothing mattered. Nothing but being close to him.

“Your family. Tell me about them.”

“Well, I have one annoying mother. She’d just die if she knew what I really did.” I laughed. “My father? Love him, but he’s clueless. And my perfect,” I used my fingers to emphasize quotation marks, “Peace Corps serving brother Ricky, who I’ll never be like in a million years.”

Mark continued to smile. His smile was perfect.

“So your mother doesn’t know about your night time hobby?” he asked. “How about anyone else?”

“No, you’re the only one.” I said, refusing to admit that my so-called counselor not only knew but wanted to help mentor me. Why I didn’t spill, I don’t know. Maybe I feared Mark’s reaction would be similar to Dylan.

“Did you tell anyone else…,” I coughed, “…our ability?”

Mark looked away. “No. No, I didn’t.”

“What about your family?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “What are they like?

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been around them for a long while.”

“Oh, that’s right you did mention that. Are you living with another family member? Like a brother?”

He stared at me hard. “No.”

I waited for him to reveal more. But he didn’t. Somehow I knew not to push either.

“What does it matter who I live with?” Mark leaned in closer. “I’m here now and I met you.” The light from outside hit his cross necklace, framing his face with a silver glow.

I smiled. I couldn’t help but focus on his lips. I fantasized about him pulling me closer, and kissing me. No way would his kiss be anything but amazing.

“I’m like you, I don’t usually tell others about my interests.” Mark smiled.

Excitement bubbled inside me. Could it be possible I could actually share my ability with someone else who didn’t happen to be either dead or a so-called shrink?

“Cool,” I said. “Uh, I mean, I understand where you’re coming from.”

“There’s a lot we have in common,” Mark said. “Tonight, I’ll share even more.”

Shivers went through my body. Just the thought of being closer to Mark, made me want to forget everything else.

I didn’t want this feeling to go away.

Chapter 19

The rest of the day went by too fast. We left the coffee house and hung out by the big park across the street from City College. The groves of oak trees, friendly squirrels, and the ducks made me forget about all the mundane stuff that had bothered me, including Dylan.

Being with Mark gave happiness a whole new meaning. I mean, who wouldn’t be stoked to be around a cute guy who not only wanted to be with you but showed interest in the everyday mundane things of your life, or in my case, didn’t judge me because of my fascination with helping the dead.

At least, that’s what I’d assumed Mark meant in the coffee house.

The time came when we had to leave. I’d cut school and frankly didn’t care. But the school might call and I needed to get home to at least give the impression that I’d gone.

Mark dropped me off down the street, a few houses away from my home.

“See you tonight,” he said.

“I didn’t say I would come.”

“You’ll come.”

The look he directed my way spoke volumes. He was interested in me. I couldn’t wait for tonight even though I didn’t want to let him know that. Even I knew being too forward wasn’t cool and might turn a guy off. I didn’t want to blow it.

Mark gunned his motor and took off. I stood for a while, watching him fade into the distance. I still couldn’t believe what I’d done. This so wasn’t me. But maybe I needed to change.

I turned and made my way to my house, hoping no one – namely Dylan – had told my mother I hadn’t been at school. I’m sure Cura would text me later for the 411.

When I opened my front door, I caught a whiff of Mom’s homemade marinara sauce. The sweet scent of sautéed onions, garlic, roasted tomatoes and basil made my stomach growl. I smiled.

Not only had I met one awesome guy, but Mom was making my favorite meal. If I was lucky, she’d make Grandpa’s famous meatballs, which I swear were bigger than my fist.

I threw my backpack in the corner. I couldn’t help but check to see if the red light was flashing on the answering machine. No.

I pushed back the fear Mom’d find out about my little escapade with Mark today. I’d never cut school before. I didn’t want to argue. I wanted to savor the feelings I’d had earlier with Mark.

“Stephanie, is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Yeah.” I wandered in, placing some letters on the granite counter. “Here’s the mail.”

“How was school?” She stirred the spaghetti sauce. Her Ann Taylor outfit, a peach t-shirt and khaki slacks, was covered by an apron, handmade by a long-forgotten college roommate. A few long strands of hair framed her face where they had escaped her clippie barrette. Even when making dinner my mother looked well put together.